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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948461">Sigma</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xazz/pseuds/Xazz'>Xazz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassin's Creed - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Robots &amp; Androids, Android, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forehead Touching, Gay Robots, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Outer Space, Robot, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, Space Stations, Surprise Kissing, space</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:20:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,971</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xazz/pseuds/Xazz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Altair owns an operates a small cantina on a prison mining station known as the Cygnet. It's an okay job. He gets paid, the miners like him, and he gets to be away from that dead world he grew up on. His main clientele are the station's miners, prisoners all, but he knows they aren't all so bad. In fact he's got a few he downright likes, some favorites. Well. At least one favorite.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad/Desmond Miles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>From inside the closed, double walled, triple secure air locks space was almost sort of nice. Or that’s what Altair told himself. Was better than the dead planet he’d come from. Humans thought themselves gods if they thought they could bring that red husk of a world back to life. As he’d gotten older, gotten better schooling, Altair knew that’d never happen. At least not in any meaningful lifetime for him. Terraforming would take too long and there was so much universe to see to be stuck on some dead world humans were trying to breathe life into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he was much better off here. No window. No life. No wind. No sky. No sun. Just his little stand in the wall, one side with two triple secure air locks between the station and the open void of space and the other with a door. Just a door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cygnet station was home to one of the biggest mining operations in the inner system. And Altair had been living in the cramped, barely more than a factory floating in the void, for three years. Not his ideal place of existence but it was better than a dead world he supposed. At least the people here were interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the triple secure air lock doors hissed, the heavy hand wheel spun and with ease it swung open and in stepped three of the workers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They weren’t like the miners back home. In sophisticated android suits they were hardly human. These three didn’t even have the normal bipedal stance of a human. One honestly looked like a damn spider. Altair knew him; Robert. Altair did not like him one bit. His six spindly legs freaked him out and his extremely long arms were equally distressing. “Howdy!” Altair called warmly, raising a hand from behind his bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chum,” one of them, not Robert, called back, raising a hand in return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They clustered up to the bar, only one of them actually able to sit, the other two didn’t have bodies that functioned with human stools. “I’m guessing shift is over?” Altair asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. What a fucking waste of time,” Tamar grumbled, all four of his arms folded, the metal of his android body grinding and hissing against each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? What happened?” Altair already knew what they wanted. It was whatever he’d serve them. While technically none of them needed to eat the human run androids preferred to eat real food to power their bio engines than the soylent green stuff the factory gave out and passed as edible. That stuff was barely more than coal with the shape and consistency of firm tofu, and about as tasteless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We blew a hole in Alpha Lamia Six looking for more iron. Hit god damn diamond,” Robert said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t diamond good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not when you’re looking for iron it ain’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair just shrugged. “Eh, I guess I don’t know anything. I just make food,” and he went to the fridge to pull out the remade meals. Meals he’d made. With real food. Or as real as you could serve to guys like these miners. He didn’t bother warming them up, just popped the tops and put them in front of the miners. As he did the doors hissed and opened again. “Howdy!” Altair called as more androids entered. All makes and models designed for specific tasks around the mining operations. A big shift must have just ended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chum!” several of them called back, lights dancing across some faces in a way Altair recognized as smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brought out more containers of food, laying them out on the bar. In a neat line each other miners came, took a container, and found a place to sit, eat, and talk after a day of blasting and digging and dragging huge amounts of ore and rock around. Altair wasn’t sure they could taste what he made but he’d never had any complaints. The humans who ate his food said it tasted good so he must have been doing something right. His little stall was very quickly filled with androids coming off their shift, talking, eating (which was more like pouring the food down a hole to their bio reactor but Altair was about to disagree with them), and being loud. As some left, having finished, they’d give the reader by the door a smack and Altair would hear a chime from the mid room. Money transferred. Good enough for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first round of androids came, got their bio fuel, talked, paid, and left. As they did more came in. Shifts weren’t small on the Cygnet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was just waiting for his favorite android to come in. He usually came in last, when most others had left. He liked it quieter. Altair didn’t mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to form as the crowd was starting to thin one of the air locks hissed and opened and in stepped probably the most humanoid android of the bunch. Two legs, two arms, a head, and built like a bull dog. He had a single horizontal light strip across the front of their head that changed colors. In the years Altair had been here he’d learned what all the different colors meant. Or he’d hope so. Foreman Sigma-17 was his favorite android.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The foreman came over and sat down at the bar in one of the unoccupied seats. “Howdy,” Altair said, smiling at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Howdy,” the foreman said, his light strip was a pleasant blue color. “I’m right hungry if that’s all well with you, chum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. What else do you think I am but all your’s lunch lady,” he cast a look at the androids around and they buzzed for laughter or made passable laughing sounds. The foreman could make a laughing sound. Altair dug in his stock fridge and pulled out a container he had a little note taped to. This one was specifically for Foreman Sigma-17. If he thought about it too much Altair felt silly cooking an extra special meal for an android who he wasn’t sure could taste, and certainly didn’t chew. He just didn’t think about it like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’d be a lot grumpier without ya, Altair,” the foreman said fondly as Altair turned around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pft, ain’t that the truth. Sigma-3 and 4 and their crew would have mutinied by now if Altair wasn’t out here treatin’ us like decent folk,” someone in the room called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahhh, it’s nothing,” Altair said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he put the foreman’s meal on the counter. “You certainly pay more often than my human customers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh, blood bags ain’t shit,” someone grumbled. “Well, other than you I mean Altair. You’re an alright blood bag-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut the hell up Jacob, you’re acting more a fool than usual,” someone had bent the awkward android’s head back to look at the opposite wall. “Stop embarrassing the crew with your shitty chatter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then stop fucking with my head!” Jacob cried, yanking his head back straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough,” the foreman said calmly. “Take the bickering outside. You know no fighting in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah Sigma,” they both grumbled and went back to what they were doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright. I know what Jacob was getting at,” Altair said to the foreman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still ain’t right to talk about you like that. Jacob’s just pissy his sentence got extended.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No. Why?” Altair frowned, leaning on the bar across from the foreman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad behavior,” was all the foreman said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn. How long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six more months.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yikes,” Altair grimaced. As he did the foreman took off the front plate of his face. Under it was just a hole. Altair looked away. He did not like watching the androids eat. The foreman dumped the entire contents of the container down the hole and put the front of his face back on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amazing as always,” the foreman said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t even taste it,” Altair accused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sayonara chum!” some androids called to Altair as they opened the inner airlock door to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sayonara!” Altair called back, raising a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need to taste it to know it’s delicious,” the foreman said. “It also burns longer than that crap they give us in rations, meaning it’s got fat, protien, and carbs in it. Which is more than I can say for the fuel bars,” his light bar briefly flickered orange like an annoyed, momentary, scowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I’m glad you like it,” Altair said. “Though I’m sure I could serve you guys slop and you’d prefer it over the fuel bars,” he chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t that the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Altair,” someone interrupted them. Altair was leaning pretty far across the bar and realized he was doing it. He flushed and stood up properly. “Could I get another round?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You pay for your first round?” he rose his eyebrows at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m hurt you’d even ask. I did,” they said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair still checked his records as he got another food container. “Really Arno? Because it says here you haven’t paid yet,” he held the containing up but not within reach of the miner android.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon Altair. You know I’m good for it,” Arno complained. He was a logistic android. Looked almost like a bird, or what Altair assumed a bird looked like. He’d never seen a bird in person. But like a large bird, like a stork, or a heron. He flew around, made sure everything ran smoothly, things got where they were supposed to go, he didn’t do a lot of mining himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pay first, then you can get a second,” Altair wasn’t sympathetic to his complaining. He knew a single android could eat his entire stock no problem or questions asked. He also expected them to pay for it. He’d been too nice the first few months he’d been on the Cygnet and it had cost him a huge chunk of his savings from buying ingredients to feed people and androids who didn’t pay. He knew the androids could afford one of his meals every shift. But a second? And Arno wouldn’t try anything funny with his foreman around. All the miners knew to be on their best behavior around foremen. They talked to actual humans and could get them put into new shells and better jobs. The foreman had told Altair Arno had kissed ass into a logistic shell but was shit at logistic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arno made an annoyed noise, puttered over to the scanner by the doors and bought the first round. Then he left. The foreman made a noise as close to a snort as he could that was more like the sound of grinding metal. “Figured,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair put the container away. “I dunno who he thinks he’s fooling,” Altair scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Logistics try and get away with everything,” someone next to the foreman said. “Think because they got that sleek shell they can pull off whatever shit they want,” both he and the foreman made a weird electronic noise Altair knew was a scoff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe with your bosses but it seems he hasn’t noticed, I’m not your boss.” The few androids who heard that made their versions of laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thankfully. You’re much nicer than them,” the foreman said, leaning hard on the bar. The light bar across his face was a different shade of blue, almost purple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And cook better too,” someone called. More android laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bar emptied slowly until it was just Altair and the foreman. It was shift change soon and he was about to get a whole new group of androids in here. Foreman Sigma-17’s crew was just on an extended break while another crew unloaded their tons of ore they’d gotten from the asteroid. Altair leaned against the bar, trying to be casual. “Did you need anything else, foreman?” Altair asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could think of a few things. Unfortunately, nothing you can help me with,” the foreman said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair frowned. “Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless you got full pardon papers there ain’t much for what I’m thinking,” the foreman said, sarcastic but also serious. That brought Altair up and he was confronted with the fact that he was technically flirting with a dangerous man. A convicted felon who’d done something so bad they’d been shelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair sucked his teeth. He wasn’t that bad though. “Sorry, can’t help you with that. Maybe if I knew what you were shut in for?” he teased. Some androids he knew why they’d been shelled. Murder, human trafficking, treason, caught on the wrong side of strong politics on Earth, Mars, or the colonies, battery, large scale theft. The foreman had never said. He kept his past close to his chest. Not like some of the androids who were keen to wax their sob stories to any sympathetic ear. Luckily Altair never had to deal with any of the really twisted ones. They weren’t welcome by others of their own kind as it was, and certainly not in Altair’s cantina.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light across his face flickered in amusement. Blue, then green, then yellow, and back to blue. “Maybe one day,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It can’t be that bad,” Altair said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I did wasn’t. The shit show around it was,” the foreman said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair wanted to ask more but the door opened. On automatic he perked up and called, “Howdy!” to the new shift of androids coming in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chum!” they called back. No less than seven came in quick intervals, meaning they were waiting in line. The foreman shifted in his seat but also didn’t leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair left him to go service the new androids. He looked over when another foreman came and sat next to his favorite one. The difference in them was only that their glowing light across their face was pure red. As he walked past them to get more meals he heard his foreman give a curt, “Sigma-3,” in greeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sigma-17,” was the equally tense response. Altair didn’t like that much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly handed out the meals to Sigma-3’s crew before going back to the foreman with Sigma-3’s meal. “I should be getting on,” the foreman said, his light had changed to an annoyed orange. Guess Sigma-17 and Sigma-3 didn’t get along. This was the first time Altair had seen them in the same place. “We’re almost fully unloaded.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sigma-3 scoffed, “Took their sweet time huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had a lot of cargo,” the foreman said shortly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” and Sigma-3 took off their face to pour Altair’s meal down the hole in his visage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your crew is probably wondering where you got off to,” Altair said helpfully, not looking at Sigma-3. The two needed to be separated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” the foreman said, annoyed still at Sigma-3. “I’ll see you after shift,” he said right to Altair. Altair froze and felt all weird and bubbly in his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-sayonara,” he stammered out in a dumb, mechanical way. Briefly the light shifted purple before the foreman turned around and left, paying on his way out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sigma-3’s ground metal in an annoyed noise. “You better stay on your toes with that one, Altair,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Altair came back to reality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what Sigma-17 got shelled for? Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Killed five men in cold blood,” and Altair stared at the red light of his eye. “Aw, he never tell you?” he said in a mean tease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sigma get the fuck out of my bar,” Altair growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or what blood bag?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or I’ll have you shell locked out of this entire sector. Won’t be hard. Just tell security you were threatening me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sigma-3 got up and towered over Altair, his red light blazing. “Watch it, blood bag,” he growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair glared back up at him. “I’m not the one shelled. I dunno what I gotta watch. Unless you like being in there?” Sigma-3 made an angry noise by grinding metal together. “You touch me you get everyone of your crew banned from the bar, not even by me. Security won’t let anyone in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sigma-3 growled and stomped to the door, nearly broke the scanner to pay for his meal, and left. The miners had been watching. “Damn Altair, you got balls of solid steal standing up to Sigma-3 like that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Altair just shrugged. “What’s he actually going to do to me? He knows he fucks up he gets shelled back to a grunt, all privileges revoked. He can be a shit bag to you; not to me,” he said smugly. There was still some sounds of awe at what he’d done before they died down and went back to finishing their meals and relaxed talk before their shifts started again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Betweeen longer shift changes took the time to restock, or briefly open his cantina to the station on the other side of the shop. The bar was two way with a bulkhead and an airlock between. The androids didn’t need chairs other than at the bar but he had a grand total for four tables civilian side. It was never as popular. Humans didn’t like he served the miners. The ones that didn’t care could come and get some grub. The miners more than made up for any short business he had with the humans.</p><p>He opened that side while doing meal prep. If someone came in they were welcome but it was usually empty. Today a few humans came in, ate, one argued with Altair about the prices he charged, but he got the money before kicking him out. Once meal prep was done he closed that side of the shop to open the miner side.</p><p>He’d only just opened the miner side when one skittered in. They were vaguely humanoid but their arms and legs were all wrong. Perfect for drilling deep holes into rock for explosives. “Howdy!” Altair called.</p><p>“There anyone in here?” they asked, not leaving the door.</p><p>“Uh... no? Not yet. Something wrong friend?”</p><p>“Just you, no other blood bags huh?”</p><p>“Keep being weird and it won’t even be you in here. You hungry?” The driller just stared at him and then slipped out. What a fucking weird miner. He knew they were weird but he expected them to be somewhat polite.</p><p>Altair continued setting up for the next shift. It was his last one before ‘night’ and he could close up for the day. It wasn’t an accident that his two open periods included foreman Sigma-17’s shift ends. He felt pretty silly about it sometimes. And now especially after what Sigma-3 had said. Killed five people? How was he supposed to feel about that? Didn’t really mesh with the foreman he knew. Sigma-17 was always calm, soft spoken, and well respected by not just his crew but other foremen and their crews. Except Sigma-3 at least.</p><p>He shook his head to clear his thoughts when both doors opened at the same time. He felt a wind tug on his hair and he gripped the edge of the bar. You didn’t want to feel wind in a pressure controlled room. It meant the pressure was unequal and rushing to the void. “One at a time guys! You know I don’t like space,” he called even as several androids stepped in.</p><p>“Don’t go yelling like that, chum,” said a big miner android that could barely fit in through the door. Altair could hear the vacuum of space as his ears popped. They had the triple secure air locks open to the outside. There was no air outside that side of the cantina, just catwalks hugging the edge of the station the miners could use to navigate with their magnetic boots or grab onto from using their thrusters from space.</p><p>“Close the damn doors!” Altair yelled.</p><p>“Said quiet,” a foreman came in. Not Sigma-3. Another one. Like the rest they had their number stamped across their chest. Sigma-6. Their light was also red, like Sigma-3.</p><p>The air kept rushing out. Altair felt hypoxemia starting to kick in. He wasn’t getting enough oxygen. “What are you doing here?” He was just confused.</p><p>“Stop yelling. Nothing’s going to happen if you just stay quiet.”</p><p>“But— who are you? What are you doing here?” He blinked in confusion and looked up when the lights shut off and were replaced by emergency red lights. “What’s happening?” He couldn’t really figure out what was going on. He knew it was bad but he just felt like he didn’t know anything.</p><p>“Where’s the door to the other side, blood bag?” Sigma-6 stalked over to the bar and grabbed Altair by the collar.</p><p>“Door? You came through the door,” he said, breathing hard as Sigma-6 lifted him up by the collar, his feet leaving the ground, toes just barely able to scrape the floor.</p><p>“The door to the station. Stop playing stupid lunch lady,” they shook him.</p><p>Altair was just trying to breathe and focus. “I- I dunno. I can’t— I can’t breathe,” he gasped. The air was still rushing out the open doors to naked space. Air was still coming from the vents but the void was winning.</p><p>“Useless,” they dropped him and he didn’t catch himself. He landed in a hard tangle of limbs on the ground gasping for air like a fish on land. He didn’t even know what to do. He had to go. Had to do. But he couldn’t think of what to do, how to do it. He could barely even lift his head off the ground as he heard others come into the cantina. He could still breathe but there wasn’t enough oxygen to get a proper breath.</p><p>“What’s going on in here?” He recognized the voice but couldn’t think of why. “Sigma-6, why am I not surprised? You want to get us all de-shelled for this you bastard?”</p><p>“Fuck you. We outnumber security and we’re bigger than them. No one says we gotta stay here in this hell.”</p><p>“You been here barely a year and think you know anything. You need to leave before security gets here.”</p><p>“Yeah, and I’ll be going through the door to the inside,” Sigma-6 said. Altair could hear their voices and understand what they were saying but as soon as it passed through his head he forgot. What they said was forgotten almost as soon as they finished saying it. But it was something. It wasn’t the sound of his grating gasps trying to breathe in an oxygen thin environment.</p><p>“Yeah, don’t think so.”</p><p>Altair winced when he heard a crash of metal against metal. Metal shrieked and more bodies crashed together. It was like someone had taken a can of nails and upended them by Altair’s ear. It was intense for a few moments and then it was over.</p><p>“Anyone else want to do something stupid?” No responses. “Now get the fuck out of the cantina before security makes it from staging down here and finds your piss asses here trying to breach the station.” Altair heard a bunch of the androids leave, stepping over and on large pieces of metal. Then it was quiet. “Keep watch outside. Make sure no one else tries something that stupid during the mutiny,” they ordered and were obeyed.</p><p>Altair was still just lying there, breathing hard, trying to gather his breath. He heard footsteps and then a shadow above him. Something vaulted over the bar and landed next to him. He looked up and was met with the blue colored light line of foreman Sigma-17. “You okay?” He touched Altair’s face.</p><p>“Oxygen,” was all he could think to say. He was trying so hard to remember he needed oxygen.</p><p>The foreman stood up and went away for a moment. Or it felt like a moment. It could have been a life time. It was getting easier to breathe but the air was still so thin and the vents weren’t that good. The foreman knelt next to him and scooped him up under his back, cradling him in one of his big metal arms. Then a plastic thing was being placed over his mouth and nose. “Take a deep breath,” but Altair couldn’t even figure that out. “Or breathe normally, whatever,” the foreman said sarcastically when Altair didn’t.</p><p>After a few breaths Altair could focus, could think. He grabbed the air mask and pressed it tighter against his mouth, inhaling deeply several times. The feeling of confusion from the hypoxemia lifted. “What happened?” Altair asked, still holding the mask to his face.</p><p>“Some crews staged a mutiny down at staging. Security is dealing with it.”</p><p>“Then what are you doing here?”</p><p>“Smelled fishy,” the foreman said. “And you have the only inner air lock accessible by miners. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to think they might be up to trouble.”</p><p>“But... what are you doing here?” He felt like he was still under the effects of hypoxemia. It made sense sure but why?</p><p>“Who else would cook the only decent meal we get if they did something stupid like suffocated you?” The foreman reached over and gently cupped Altair’s face in his metal hand. The light across his face was purple for a moment. “Now we need to get you inside. It won’t be safe in the cantina,” and he helped Altair up. Altair kept the breather over his mouth. He wasn’t sure the oxygen level in the cantina but he wasn’t going to risk it either.The foreman held onto his arm and waist while he got his balance back.</p><p>He shrunk down when there was an explosion somewhere outside that echoed through all of Cygnet. The lights in the cantina went completely out. The only light came from the miners’ lights. Altair stared up at the foreman. “Door ain’t going to open now,” he said, eyes wide.</p><p>“Shit,” the foreman muttered. “Probably a stupid question but you ain’t got a pressure suit in here, do you?”</p><p>“I’m a civilian, why would I have a pressure suit?” Altair asked.</p><p>“Right, stupid question. Sit tight. I’ll be back,” and the foreman turned around and when they left Altair was plunged into complete darkness.</p><p>Altair slid down behind the bar. The vents weren’t working now. There was no more air being pumped into the room. But at least the pressure was stabilized. He kept the oxygen mask against his face and pulled his legs up to his chest.</p><p>He should have just taken that damn internship on Io. But noooo he had to have standards and wouldn’t sink down to working for Kenway Corp. He could have had a cushy desk job bossing people around. Instead he’d felt it was beneath him to work for a company that so obviously just skewed its test results to prove their thesis’s even if they were wrong, should have been wrong.</p><p>Could have had a nice biochemical research job on fucking Io. Instead he was here living through a mutiny on a prison station in the fucking belt. He’d left Mars for this. Graduated from the best less than 1G university the system had to offer, top marks, could have had any job he’d ever wanted. And he’d gotten it. Then his boss had found something he wasn’t supposed to and gotten himself killed. Kenway Corp had immediately offered him an internship but he’d had to have standards. And now he was fucking here in this mess!!</p><p>He was going to die because he was too nice to a bunch of prisoners.</p><p>He was a fucking idiot.</p><p>Light appeared in the cantina from a flashlight. “Altair? You okay in here?” It was the foreman. He sighed into his mask. Fuck. Well at least one of these damn bastards wasn’t trying to kill him. “Altair?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” because he couldn’t take the worry in his voice. Fuck him honestly. He dragged himself to his feet.</p><p>“Good, come around,” he had what looked like a sack in his arms. Altair did. “You can put that down for the moment. There’s enough O2 in here for you to breathe with only minor difficulty.”</p><p>“Oh joy,” Altair lowered the breather, putting it on the bar.</p><p>The foreman opened what looked like a large garbage bag. “Step in,” he said.</p><p>“What is that?”</p><p>“Rudimentary pressure suit.”</p><p>“As in made of single layer plastic?”</p><p>The foreman made a noise like a scoff. “No. This is a real suit. We use them when something blows in a limb or we get hit by shrapnel. Keeps everything together until we can get back to dispatch. It’s pressurized.”</p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>“I’ve used them before.”</p><p>Altair hesitated. He hugged himself. Without the air from the vents it was starting to get very cold in here now. Illuminated by the light on the foreman’s shoulder Altair could see his breath. “I don’t know I can trust you, foreman,” he said. “The last prisoners in here tried to break into the Cygnet because I was too nice to them.”</p><p>The foreman appraised him. “My name is Desmond. You can call me that if you want. I’m not your crew leader.” And the hair on the back of Altair’s neck on stood on end. Two years he’d been running this little cantina and it was the first time he’d ever heard foreman Sigma-17’s name.</p><p>Altair wanted to think he had stronger constitution than doing something stupid like this just because a miner showed him some iota of interest and trust. But he really wasn’t. It was hard to be when the only people in the entire station who appreciated you were a bunch of prison miners. “I’ll be fine, Desmond?”</p><p>“Yes. I wouldn’t put you in danger, Altair,” the horizontal bar across his face was purple.</p><p>Altair chewed his lower lip before nodding. “Okay. I trust you.”</p><p>“Thank you,” and Desmond helped him into the bag. Then Desmond pulled out a heavy metal ring and fit it over Altair’s head, attaching it to the loose red material. He poked some buttons on it and Altair yelped in surprise when the ring formed a perfect seal around his throat and then vacuumed out all the air to form to his limbs. The metal ring vibrated against his neck and puffed up an outer layer between the layer against his skin and the air, creating a pocket of pressure to keep all his bits in place.</p><p>“Wow, that’s something. But I still can’t breathe,” he touched his face.</p><p>Desmond produced what looked like a fish bowl. “These suits were original meant to be for emergency use by humans in the event of a catastrophic loss of air and pressure. We used them for our own needs but they still come with helmets we don’t need,” and he put the fish bowl over Altair’s head. It attached to the metal ring. There was no initial air and he tried not to panic. Desmond picked up his breather, ripped off the mask and jammed it into a spot on the metal ring. Oxygen flooded the helmet. “There we go, fully functioning pressure suit. Now lets get you out of here,” and he grabbed Altair’s hand and pulled him out the triple secure doors.</p><p>—</p><p>Altair had never been in space before. Sure he’d taken ships from Mars to other parts of the system but there was a secure metal and pressure shell around him the entire time. He’d never been out in free space before. He’d never experienced 0G before either.</p><p>The stars looked different when not seen through a monitor or the rare porthole or the hazy red atmosphere of Mars. They were sharper, clearer, and far more brilliant than he could possibly imagine. His eyes tracked across the sky before he landed on the Eagle constellation. There, in the neck, was the star he was named after. He’d never really understood why some middle class Martians would name their son something so cosmic as after a star but here in open space he understood.</p><p>There was magic out here.</p><p>Desmond pulled his arm. He looked and Desmond beckoned him. Altair didn’t have magnetic boots like Desmond and he grabbed Desmond’s hand, motioning he was following. Desmond pulled him close and put his face against Altair’s helmet. When he spoke it was in strange vibrations he heard from all around. In space there was no way to talk but if you had a conduit you could. “Don’t freak out on me here. Just trust me,” it was weirdly muffled and echoey. The glass was not the best at conducting audio waves. Altair nodded but didn’t understand what was about to happen.</p><p>He understood the request to not freak out when Desmond jumped off the edge of the Cygnet, holding onto Altair. Before they’d been clinging to the side, Altair holding onto a grip just outside his cantina. The next moment they were in open space. Altair couldn’t help it. He gave a short little scream even as Desmond held him close and stuck a foot out. Their forward momentum slowed from a rocket in his foot. “It’s going to be okay,” Desmond said against the glass of his helmet.</p><p>Altair just clung to Desmond as the android powered around the Cygnet, away from staging. Other parts of the Cygnet still had power. That was good. They came to an airlock and Desmond grabbed one of the handles on the outside, momentum carrying them to the side for a moment. Altair could feel the vibration of something blowing up through Desmond arm.</p><p>Desmond put his head on the glass helmet. “Here we are. Airlock.”</p><p>“Yeah. Can you hear me?”</p><p>“Not as well as you can hear me but yeah,” Desmond shrugged. “You’re safe now. Open the airlock.”</p><p>Altair hesitated. “You can’t come with me,” he said.</p><p>For a moment the light across his face turned orange. “I didn’t say that.”</p><p>“I’m not an idiot, Desmond. The mutiny is about being shelled. And you’ve been shelled a long time. The only way to the prison cells are through Cygnet. There’s no way to get there from staging. You’d need to get there through an actual airlock.”</p><p>“Your point?”</p><p>“You were shelled for a reason.”</p><p>Desmond made a grinding metal noise. “I was set up,” he said.</p><p>“Sigma-3 told me you killed five men. In cold blood.”</p><p>The light turned gray. “He did huh?”</p><p>“Yeah. Is that true? Did you kill five men?”</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>“Why? You seem so nice. Am I wrong?”</p><p>Desmond looked up at the stars. Cygnet rumbled and Altair could feel it in his stomach where Desmond had his arm wrapped around his waist. Then he put his head against the glass to talk. “I’m not a bad guy,” he said. “I’m just an ex enforcer from Luna who got caught up in a political pedophilia sex trafficking ring,” Altair stared at him. “I have a little brother you know. Prettiest little boy you’ve ever seen. Curly black hair, dimples, always has a smile for you. He was eight when I found some adult men talking to him. They were trying to groom him. I found out who their bosses through my work with the enforcers and I went and shot them all in the head because those sick fucks wanted to hurt my brother in a way no little boy should ever have to be hurt. They arrested me and gave me five life sentences. Mentions of the men having sexual interest in a child were never brought up.</p><p>“I was shelled immediately and transferred out here to the Cygnet. I’ve been here twelve years, Altair. Longer than just about anyone. This shit hole is out of the way and shelled I can’t contact a lawyer or pleade for parole. A lot of us out here are dead out here. Some of us will get unshelled eventually. Minor offenses, thirty year terms. I won’t. Because I did the right thing for my family and for families like mine, I get to stay in their shit hole, mining and leading crews, until I die. In prison cryo that ain’t a few decades. They can keep you alive for two centuries.</p><p>“I killed five men. I sure as shit did. And I’d do it again. But I did it to keep my baby brother safe. And keep other little boys safe on Luna too. I’m not a bad man, Altair. I never have been. People in power on Luna just don’t like it when you fuck with their power.</p><p>“Now open the airlock? If no other reason than let me get you home safe. I need to make sure you’re safe too.”</p><p>Altair stared up at Desmond the entire time he was talking. He reached up and cupped Desmond face as he rested it against Altair’s helmet. The light across his face turned a muted purple. “Alright,” he said quietly. He tore his eyes from Desmond and input the general code to open the air locks from the outside. It was the same that locked and unlocked the airlocks to his cantina both between it and space and the cantina and the Cygnet.</p><p>The doors slid open and Desmond propelled them forward, closing the airlock behind. As they passed through a certain threshold the spun up gravity pulled them to the floor. Desmond kept hold of Altair so he didn’t splat. Once they passed through the inner door of the airlock Altair yanked off the helmet and took a deep breath of proper air. “Holy shit,” he hawed and coughed a bit. Breathing the bottled O2 at such a high concentration was honestly murder on his lungs. He was so far removed from an Earthlingthat too much O2 could quickly overstimulate his lungs and burn. Human bodies really were incredibly horrible most times.</p><p>“You alright?” Desmond asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Altair wheezed. “Going from O2 environments at those extremes so fast has been rough on my lungs.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t say sorry. You got me out of the cantina. I would still be there without you.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Desmond grabbed Altair’s hand. “Lead the way to your quarters. I want to make sure you get there alright. The riot shouldn’t have gotten into Cygnet but with the explosions I can’t be sure.”</p><p>“Did you know about the mutiny?” Altair asked as they walked. Desmond didn’t respond. “Desmond,” he said.</p><p>“I knew something was going to happen. I didn’t know it would be a mutiny,” he said. “The long timers know its better to just keep going. Don’t stir shit up. Serve your time then get the hell out. Being a space miner isn’t a place you want to disrupt the status quo.”</p><p>“So it was someone new to the station?”</p><p>“Relatively, yes.”</p><p>“Like Sigma-6?”</p><p>Desmond scoffed. “That brat? Nah. He just took the opportunity when he saw it. Foremen know better. Or I’d hope so,” it was hard to sound thoughtful with a mechanical voice but Desmond added just enough pause and length to his words to make it so. That made Altair sad. It meant Desmond had been shelled a long enough time to have figured that out over what was basically a monotone computer voice. “Nah it was some grunt workers who were sick of being treated like slaves. They don’t get that’s what they signed up for when they took a mining sentence over a regular one.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Altair said and stopped them at a nondescript door in a nondescript part of Cygnet close to the middle where gravity was weaker. Enough to keep your feet planted but if Altair wanted to he could easily jump and touch his hand to the twelve foot ceilings. It felt most like the gravity he’d grown up with on Mars so he’d picked his apartment closer to the central column. He knew Earthlings liked further apartments, Moonmen and people from the outer system colonies didn’t care, having adapted to life in less than 1G. Closer to the core there was so much less gravity you could hover. Altair at least liked having his feet on the ground.</p><p>“For what?” Desmond asked.</p><p>“That you’re a miner,” he frowned.</p><p>“Nah,” and he made a metal grinding noise like a scoff. “Ain’t your fault.”</p><p>“I know. But I just... it isn’t fair.”</p><p>“I know,” Desmond said. “Is this home for you?” He nodded at the door.</p><p>“Yeah,” he frowned.</p><p>“Alright. You’ll be safe now.”</p><p>“I hope so. Thanks for helping me,” he said.</p><p>“Of course,” Desmond said and reached over to touch Altair’s face. “When this is over you’re going to reopen, right?”</p><p>Altair mulled it over briefly. “I— probably, yeah? I guess,” he shrugged. “It’s the only income I got.”</p><p>“Good. Now go inside and be safe,” and his thumb stroked Altair’s cheek.</p><p>“You too,” Altair blurted out. All at once he felt a thousand butterflies. Now that he wasn’t about to suffocate he could wrap his head around the fact that the foreman was touching him so gently and tenderly.</p><p>The light in Desmond’s face strobed slowly between amused yellow and purple, whatever purple meant. Altair had never figured that one out. “Go on,” he took his hand off Altair’s face and motioned for him to open his door. Altair sheepishly turned around and unlocked his home. He stepped into the threshold before looking back as he heard Desmond start to walk away.</p><p>It was wrong. Desmond was walking the wrong way. He wasn’t walking back the way they’d come, to the airlock. He was walking towards the center of the Cygnet. “Where are you going?” Altair called after him nervously.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” Desmond’s voice didn’t carry as far as a human’s.</p><p>Altair hesitated at the door frame. Then he went after him. “Well I am!” He got in front of Desmond, arms out to bar him from continuing. It was pretty comical really. Desmond was a good three feet taller than him.</p><p>“Somewhere not safe for you,” he grabbed Altair’s arms and pulled him back towards his room. He spun Altair back into his open doorway, holding his hands. “Just stay here. It’s safer for you.”</p><p>Altair frowned at him. “You’re about to go do something stupid, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Me?” The light turned blue. “Never.”</p><p>“Desmond,” he said seriously.</p><p>“It isn’t something you need to worry about,” Desmond said patiently.</p><p>“Well too fucking bad, I will,” he said and very nearly stomped his foot. “If you go and do something stupid and get reshelled who will make sure those useless miners behave in your crew or in my cantina? Huh? Sure not Sigma-3,” he huffed.</p><p>That just amused Desmond. The light turned violet. “You can take care of yourself just fine. You’re a big boy.”</p><p>“That doesn’t mean I don’t prefer you doing it,” he said before he could shut his stupid betrayal mouth. He just stared up at Desmond. Was this awkward? Had he made it awkward?</p><p>The light across his face turned all the way purple. He leaned down and Altair’s heart jumped into his throat. “Want to know a secret?” Desmond asked him quietly. He nodded. “This is your color.” And Altair’s face turned red all the way down his throat. Then Desmond gently pressed his forehead against Altair’s. The metal was oddly warm, warmer than human skin but barely. Altair closed his eyes as Desmond changed the way he was holding onto Altair’s hands and threaded their fingers together.</p><p>“Be safe,” Altair said softly.</p><p>“Just make sure your shop opens up when the Cygnet goes back to normal,” Desmond said. Altair nodded against his forehead. “Good,” and he stood up and shoved Altair into his room, closing the door with a sure snap.</p><p>Altair didn’t hit the ground too hard thanks to the weak gravity. It was still enough to stun him for a few moments. He shook his head to get some composure and scrambled to his feet. The door shinked open and the corridor was empty. Desmond was already gone. “Come back,” Altair said softly, already heart broken.</p><p>He was glad he hadn’t taken that internship on Io now.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Security close to the cells was lax. There was a single guard at his station but he had headphones on and was looking at a screen. He didn’t even see when Desmond walked past. Every other guard was outside at staging dealing with the riot. Desmond knew they wouldn’t get far. This wasn’t the first riot he’d witnessed, the first mutiny that had completely failed. There was no way onto Cygnet from staging. Desmond knew that. The only way onto Cygnet other than a docking ship were the air locks the station jettisoned its trash out of. If you wanted to get onto the station you needed to go through the airlock and you needed someone with access to the airlocks.</p><p>Altair had been a convenient newcomer to Cygnet a few years ago.</p><p>The original plan was get to know him and convince him to open the air lock for him in his cantina. Wouldn’t be hard. Desmond was downright charming when he wanted to be and Altair was all alone here on the Cygnet. But he’d kept putting it off. First because it wasn’t the right time and then he kept coming up with excuses to not find a moment to be alone with the young cook. Weeks became months became almost three years. And he always had an excuse why he couldn’t ask.</p><p>If he was just honest he’d know he didn’t want to do it anymore. Getting into the station would probably mean threatening or lying to Altair and Desmond didn’t want that. He was the only little joy in this joyless life he had. The endless toil of days where nothing ever changed except sometimes there were new men in his crew. But he was always the same. He’d be here until he finally died.</p><p>He couldn’t take it anymore.</p><p>Desmond entered the cell block. It was like a library stack, the space between prisoner tubes barely wide enough for a person to walk through. They were clustered as close as could be but still give some space in case of emergencies. His readings told him it was cold in here. Nearly freezing. This was going to suck.</p><p>They even had the prisoners arranged like a library. Alphabetical order and then by length of stay. Desmond found his row and went all the way down the block to almost the very end. There was a tiny, iced over, port hole looking into the pod. He leaned close, light of his eye warm enough to melt the thin layer of ice. Slowly the ice melted to reveal his own sleeping face.</p><p>“Damn I really let myself go,” he said to himself. He was barely more than skin and bones and naked as the day he was born. They had his brain hooked up to something and he was covered in probes and sensors and had a few tubes shoved down his throat for eating and breathing and another for pissing and shitting. “Well this is fucking weird,” he mused. Time to end his sentence early.</p><p>He looked over at the control panel. There wasn’t even a password lock on it. They never expected a prisoner to get this far. He tapped the green button lightly. The pod hissed as it decompressed but he didn’t wake up. Desmond cocked his head to the side. He’d get himself out once he had a replacement. In the meantime he just waited.</p><p>As expected the guard from the desk eventually came, alerted that a pod had been opened without authorization. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” They flashed a light across Desmond as he stood there, eye light illuminating the area around them in red.</p><p>“Waiting for you. Took you long enough,” he complained.</p><p>The guard raised his gun. “Step away from the pod. You’re under arrest for attempted escape.”</p><p>“I am not attempting anything,” Desmond said calmly and started walking towards them.</p><p>“Stay where you are and raise your hands,” The guard barked but Desmond didn’t listen. He just kept coming for him. As the only hot thing in the cell block it was easy to see his racing heart. The guard was terrified of him.</p><p>He reached out and put his hand over the guard’s entire head. “Put the gun down, son,” Desmond said, lifting the guard an inch off his feet. He instantly dropped the gun and started to struggle, grabbing at Desmond’s arm to not dislocate his spine from being held by the neck. They started to yell but it wasn’t easy with Desmond’s huge metal palm over their mouth.</p><p>He walked back to his pod with the guard in hand. He gingerly pulled his human body out of the pod and shoved the guard into it. The guard protested but Desmond just put his back to them, blocking them in the pod as he dealt with his body.</p><p>He took the tubes out of his orifaces for starters. How demeaning he looked like that. And they didn’t even give him the decency of any clothing. That wouldn’t do. He didn’t take the sensors off yet. He’d done what research he could about how shelling worked. So long as he kept all those things on him he could control the android, even when he woke up. That was what he wanted.</p><p>But it was too cold even out here for his body to wake up. The guard pounded on his back to no avail. Well the only warm thing was that guard and the android’s engine. He gently set his body down and ripped off his chest plate. He immediately started to smoke as the hot engine block met the cold air. He picked himself back up and held him close, warming him up.</p><p>After a few minutes Desmond opened his eyes into his own face. “Hey bud,” he said tiredly looking at the foreman frame holding him. He closed his eyes again and used the android to help him stand. Despite everything his limbs had not completely atrophied. It would have been against Fennigen vs. Reese, one of the first android prisoners who served a six year sentence. When he’d been taken out of cold sleep he’d lost all motor ability in his limbs and even his lungs wee depenant on a machine. He’d sued his prison station into non existence for malpractice, negligence, and making him dependent on machines to live. His body had withered away while serving his sentence. Fennigen vs. Reese made it so all android shelled prisoners were granted regular muscle stimulation so when they finished their sentence they could walk out of their station onto a transport shuttle all on their own.</p><p>Touching the ground with his own feet was an odd sensation after twelve years of just knowing he was standing on solid ground but not actually able to feet it. He wrapped his arms around his frail body and shivered. He was so cold now. He’d forgotten how it felt to feel with his skin again.</p><p>He kept his eyes closed and the android stood up and turned to the guard, eye red. The guard was crying from fear. “Oh don’t do that, chum. It isn’t that bad,” Desmond’s voice came out of the android. The guard tried to fight but there was no fighting a nine foot tall robot when it wanted to take all your clothes off. He stripped the guard down to just his underwear and put his back to him again. The android handed him the clothes and he pulled on what he could while still having the wires attached.</p><p>He walked stiltedly over to the control panel. He hadn’t gone in there all hooked up. He’d been put in that tube on Luna with clothes on and they’d done the tubes and shit when he’d arrived. Meaning there was a way to make the guard go into cold sleep. After a bit of fiddling and squinting at the screen Desmond did figure it out. He had the android step away and half closed the pod before releasing a gas that made you lethargic. The guard beat against the tube but there was no fighting the anesthesia.</p><p>Once the guard was asleep Desmond reopened the pod and hooked him back up like he’d been. Tubes down his throat, penis, and ass. It was unbecoming but Desmond didn’t want him to suffer too much. Just as much as he’d suffered. Once the guard would be managed by the tubes Desmond looked at the android, just standing there, eye blue.</p><p>He went over to his body he’d had for nine years. He put a hand up on the big metal chest. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he said to it, looking up at the big metal machine. The android looked down at him.</p><p>A chuckle came out of the android, “We took care of each other.”</p><p>“Okaaaay this is too meta and I’m literally talking to myself,” Desmond said and it also came out of the android. The android moved around him so he could easily get out of the cell block and squatted. He still hesitated before taking off the sensors and patches on his body and head. Once he did he wouldn’t be connected to the foreman shell anymore.</p><p>Desmond closed his eyes. “It’s okay. You deserve to live now. And I know Altair is wondering where you are. And your family wants to hear from you,” the android said. Or rather Desmond said to himself through the android.</p><p>“Yeah,” he nodded to himself and took off the crown of sensors wires. They left red marks on his skin where they’d been, the adhesive almost having become one with his skin. The android’s blue strip turned white. “Sorry, bud,” he said softly. Then he turned back to the guard and hooked him into the sensors and wires, approximately where they’d been on Desmond.</p><p>He wasn’t worried about the guard being able to tap into the android. When he’d first been shelled it had taken him about two weeks to learn how to use a basic grunt android where all it did was walk and transport ore from a container to a feeder belt. A foreman shell was like being strapped into the cockpit of a space-fighter with no training and told to fly to Neptune from Mars. The android’s eye turned pale yellow, showing it was connected to a new host.</p><p>Before Desmond left he went to the android and put his hand on it again. “Can’t believe I’m about to say I’ll actually miss being you. Nice being the big dog at least.” He turned away with a shake of his head and put on the rest of the guard’s clothes. He was too tall for them but they were still too big for him. He was barely more than muscle and bones and the uniform was huge on him.</p><p>He got to the guard station and grabbed anything useful including an extra pistol he shoved into a pocket and a key card to get him around the Cygnet. He kept the brim of the guard’s uniform hat low to hide his face and slipped out of the cell block.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*with still a mouth full of breakfast* oh shit I never posted the last chapter of this.</p><p>This chapter contains porn. But it's not available here. Instead it's been truncated (like... A lot.). If you'd like to read the naughty bits you can do so on my <a href="https://xazz.tumblr.com/post/624457876176568320/%22">Patreon</a>. I also post exclusive new stories there and chapters for fics way ahead of AO3. I also post all my deleted stories AND new exclusive stories you'll never find here or Tumblr.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the chaos after the riot Cygnet was on lockdown. No one in or out. Desmond heard that half the miners, everyone involved in the attempted mutiny, were deshelled or put into smaller or less useful shells until they behaved enough to get better shells.</p><p>Desmond just stayed low. He ditched the guard uniform as quickly as he could and stolen some clothes from one of the few clothing shops on the Cygnet.</p><p>The Cygnet was a prison station but it had a sister station within a short shuttle trip where most of the people who operated Cygnet lived called the Eaglet. People who lived on Cygnet were essential persons or people who preferred the quiet of Cygnet to other stations or colonies. Desmond would call Cygnet a small town compared to the little city the Eaglet was.</p><p>As soon as he could, and Cygnet opened again, he gambled his way to be able to get a shuttle ticket to Eaglet. He needed to get off this station until everything really died down.</p><p>The Eaglet was larger than the Cygnet in every way and had more shops and jobs available. Especially to someone like Desmond. They didn’t ask questions and paid in real so long as Desmond was willing to do the work. He took odd jobs for weeks to afford the little capsule in the hotel on Eaglet and food and new clothes and get a damn hair cut. Things like shop stocker, messenger boy, gopher, bag boy, warehouse employee. Anything to earn a cheap buck.</p><p>While he was there he kept a sharp ear open on any news from Cygnet. After everything had died back down it seemed that the Cygnet returned to normal. Desmond checked the daily feed from the Cygnet every morning to know when it was safe to go back. He did want to go back eventually. He’d promised.</p><p>But it took a long while anyway. You needed papers to get on the shuttle to Cygnet. You needed to be some sort of essential employee or have someone vouche for you. Most of the time he spent away was just trying to meet the right people who could get him on Cygnet again.</p><p>Eventually it paid off. He had a ticket to the Cygnet and some bullshit papers that let him go without people looking too hard at him. He caught a ride on the weekly provision shuttle from Eaglet to Cygnet along with some other sorry looking humans. Desmond had to remind himself not for the first or last time that he was a human too. He wasn’t in a metal body anymore. He was flesh and blood again. It was still hard to remember that he wasn’t nine feet tall and could lift anything he wanted to both in and out of gravity.</p><p>The ride was short. Desmond hated being in a star craft. He had no control of its flight path and it could break at any moment. A few months wasn’t enough to forget what it felt like to be able to control yourself in open space. You’d never trust anyone again either. He just kept his eyes closed and focused on the soft vibrating hum of the engines that reminded him of his own reactor that used to make his entire body rumble.</p><p>They arrived to the Cygnet with no issues and Desmond was quick to disembark and kept a hat on to avoid security. Not that anyone should know what he looked like. Sigma-17 had been someone. Desmond Miles was no one.</p><p>He didn’t know the layout of Cygnet from the inside so after asking a person or three where he could find some good, cheap, food he was finally directed to Altair’s cantina. He was surprised it had a sign on the front, with a nice font and bold colors. That the cantina had a name. Him and the other miner’s always just called it the cantina or Altair’s. That was it. The fact that it was called Flown Away was a shocker. Also what the fuck sort of name was that?</p><p>There was no one in the cantina but this time of day was between shifts and he could see Altair in the back doing prep work. He checked to make sure the door was open. Altair didn’t respond when the door opened. Did he not greet people on this side? “Howdy chum,” Desmond called as the door closed behind him.</p><p>Altair’s head shot up from and he looked around in confusion before looking towards the door. “Howdy?” He called back, confused.</p><p>Desmond walked past the handful of little metal tables and chairs, all bolted to the floor to the bar that was mirrored on the vacuum side. “You serving?” Desmond sat at the bar.</p><p>“Oh- yes. One second,” and he bustled around in the back, washing his hands and making sure nothing would get fucked up if he left. “Sorry, don’t get many people in here, especially not after... well, after something happened,” he stuttered as he came out from the back up to the counter.</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“No,” Altair shrugged. “No matter,” he put a plastic menu in front of Desmond. “What’s your pleasure? I got some import drink from Mars a few days ago if you’re interested.”</p><p>Desmond glanced it over. “I’ll have my usual,” he said.</p><p>“Uh... sorry chum, I don’t recognize you. You come here before?”</p><p>“Not on this side,” Desmond said.</p><p>Altair just looked at him and then it turned into a stare as understanding dawned on him. “Sigma-17?” Altair asked in a whisper.</p><p>“I prefer Desmond, but yeah.”</p><p>Altair blinked at him. Then, “Where have been? What the fuck did you do?”</p><p>Desmond raised a hand calmly. “I was on Eaglet until the heat was down. Once it was and I had the right paperwork I came back,” he reached over and put his hand on Altair’s. Altair hesitated and moved his hand away.</p><p>“You were gone for ten weeks,” Altair said.</p><p>“It’s what I could manage. What? Unhappy to see me?” Desmond asked him.</p><p>Altair held the hand Desmond had touched. “I’m... not,” Altair allowed. “I thought they’d caught you. The entire station was locked down for days after the riot, and then a week later they finally checked your pod when your new shell wasn’t doing anything right. They found someone else in there.”</p><p>“Unfortunately,” Desmond shrugged. “I needed to keep the pod filled.”</p><p>“There’s a big bounty on your head in the belt,” Altair said softly.</p><p>“Well clearly not with any pictures of me since you didn’t recognize me,” Desmond said. “And I didn’t hear about any of that on the Eaglet. They might be fibbing. Either way it was worth it.”</p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>“Of course,” Desmond stood up and he was still a bit taller than Altair. “I get to see you in the real. And fuck, you’re even more beautiful with my own two eyes than through a shell,” and he reached over and put his hands on Altair’s face. He felt Altair shiver under his touch. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”</p><p>Altair stared at him and then slowly reached up and pulled his hands down but kept hold of them in his own. “You came back here, just for me?”</p><p>“Why else would I come back to my jail cell? The company of a bunch of criminals? Nah. The food, company, and scenery is what I came back for,” and Altair blushed. Oh. That was real cute. “That’s real cute,” he told Altair. Altair let go of one of his hands to rub his face and neck shyly. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”</p><p>“I... yeah,” he said softly. “Though this isn’t what I expected you to look like.”</p><p>Desmond grinned. “What? Expected a big ugly criminal with one eyeball and a gut?”</p><p>Altair snorted. “Just about!” Desmond laughed with him.</p><p>Desmond pulled away from him and walked around the counter to join Altair behind it. “Sorry to disappoint. You get a poor, misunderstood murderer with a nice face instead,” and he curled his arm around Altair’s waist, pulling him against him.</p><p>“Nice is a word for it,” Altair reached up and touched his face. “I’d go with handsome myself.”</p><p>“Altair,” Desmond said, bringing his eyes up to his. “I really want to fucking kiss you.” Altair’s face turned red. “Been thinking about that since I heard about the riot. Oh shit, if I do this I might get to kiss you. It’s been a real distracting thought,” and Desmond felt his own face warming up as he told Altair that.</p><p>“God you’re fucking lame,” and Altair kissed him firmly. Desmond kissed him back, holding him tightly against his front as Altair wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Yeah. This was worth the risk of escape. Completely.</p><p>Altair kissed him for a long time and every moment of it was wonderful. When they eventually parted Desmond leaned down and pressed his forehead against Altair’s, eyes still closed. Altair touched his face and it was so nice. He’d been thinking of this for weeks. What it’d be like when he saw Altair again, what he’d do. Now all he wanted to do was stay just like this. “I-I should get back to my work,” Altair stammered after several minutes. “It’s shift change soon.”</p><p>He tried to pull away but Desmond held him. “But your favorite android is right here,” he said with a charming grin.</p><p>Altair’s mouth worked a few seconds. Then he cleared his throat. “Then I should clean up at least. I don’t want my product to go bad because I’m too intrested in your face,” and he put his hands on either side of Desmond’s face and smooshed them. Desmond chuckled and released him.</p><p>“Okay, that’s fair,” Desmond said with a smile.</p><p>Altair looked back at him even as he went into the back and looked at him through the little serving window to make sure he was still there. Desmond gave him a cheeky little wave and smirked when Altair blushed and quickly went about what he was doing. Desmond leaned against the bar waiting.</p><p>Either he was impatient or Altair was taking way too long but Desmond got fed up just waiting quickly. It could have easily been both honestly. He just went into the back himself and found Altair with his head in the big fridge talking quietly to himself. Desmond listened for a moment. It sounded like he was talking himself into something. Probably talking himself into Desmond showing up out of nowhere and being a wanted felon with five murders on his rap sheet.</p><p>“You need any help?” Desmond asked and Altair started so bad he smashed his head into the top of the fridge with a yelp.</p><p>Hand on his head Altair spun, “What are you doing?”</p><p>“You were taking a long time,” Desmond said. “You’d think you were over waiting.”</p><p>“Uhhh-</p><p>Desmond stepped over to him and closed the fridge. “What’s the matter?”</p><p>“You’re... you’ve done some bad stuff, Desmond,” he said, arms folded to block him out.</p><p>“For a good reason.”</p><p>“Yeah. I know. But you still killed five people and what you did to that guard you put in your pod? The shock of being hooked up almost killed him-</p><p>“Altair,” he cut him off gently. “If you don’t want me here. Just tell me. Don’t make up reasons why. I have no regrets about what I did. But if you don’t want me I’ll just leave, and never bother you again,” he ended sounding defeated. He should have known it couldn’t be this easy. He’d done some bad stuff and left Altair to stew and think about it for ten weeks.</p><p>“I— Idon’t want you to go,” Altair said weakly, reaching out for Desmond. “I missed you. I— don’t go,” Desmond met him half way and grabbed his hand. “I just... I thought you’d left me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Desmond leaned down and kissed him softly. “I should have tried to get a message to you somehow. I always wanted to come back, to you,” he told Altair like a secret. Altair looked down, red faced. He wasn’t the only one flushed either.</p><p>Altair squeezed his eyes closed. “I really don’t care you killed those men, or that guard. I was just trying to make excuses for why I should tell you off,” he admitted. “Because I shouldn’t like you. You’re a ‘bad man’.”</p><p>“And the fucked up thing is I’m one of the better ones,” Desmond said. Altair nodded. He knew.</p><p>He looked up at Desmond. “You’re good, right?”</p><p>“I’m good,” Desmond assured him. “Unless you’re a pedophile, then yeah, I’m a bad guy,” he sneered. Altair shook his head with a small smile. “So I can stay?”</p><p>“Yes,” Altair said, holding onto his shirt. Desmond smiled and pressed him against the counter, kissing him some more. Altair wrapped his arms around his neck, sighing softly into his mouth.</p><p>After Desmond was sure he’d gotten a thurough understanding of Altair’s mouth he reached down and grabbed Altair by the thighs and put him on the counter top. He was only a bit taller than Altair now. But that just meant Desmond could shove his hands under his work coat easily. Fuck how long had he wanted to do this? He kissed Altair’s neck as he ran his hands up Altair’s chest. He was so warm and his skin was soft.</p><p>Altair grabbed the back of his shirt as Desmond groped him. Pulling at it until Desmond just stopped what he was doing and yanked his shirt completely off. “You just had to ask,” he said with a smirk.</p><p>Altair was flushed. “Th-that wasn’t my intention,” he squeaked.</p><p>“Disappointed?” Desmond rose his brows at Altair.</p><p>“N-no,” he said shyly. Desmond put Altair’s hands on the top of his chest to let him touch and Altair was very eager to do so.</p><p>“This not too fast?”</p><p>“No,” Altair said, rubbing his shoulders.</p><p>“Awesome,” and Desmond kissed him softly. “Because I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to do you once I got my body back for months,” he said in a low tone against Altair’s mouth. He felt Altair’s face grow even warmer.</p><p>“O-oh, uh-huh,” Altair nodded. “Hard to do that when it was a robot...”</p><p>"Fantasy only gets you so far," Desmond said and started patting down his pants pockets.</p><p>"Wait. Desmond," Altair said. Desmond looked at him, hand in his pocket.</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>Altair slid off the counter top, much to Desmond's disappointment. "It's uh... Kinda conspicuous in here," he said, red faced.</p><p>"Oh," yeah there was that big window that looked into the kitchen from the outside. "I suppose. Got a little carried away," and he gave Altair a cheeky grin.</p><p>"Somehow that doesn't shock me," and Altair found Desmond's shirt. Desmond pulled it on as Altair bustled around, shoving food prep into fridges or cabinets and wiping down surfaces, throwing the dirty dishes into a big sink for later. He grabbed Desmond’s hand. “C’mon.”</p><p>“Where we going?” Desmond was confused even as he followed after Altair. He turned off the lights in the cantina and out into the hallway, locking the door behind him.</p><p>“My home,” Altair said.</p><p>“Oh?” that got Desmond's interest.</p><p>“Well yeah. I figure you have no where else to go? You can stay with me. Unless you don’t want to?” Altair’s voice took a hint of worry then.</p><p>“I... wasn’t going to assume you’d just take me in,” Desmond admitted and rubbed the back of his neck. “But yes, I’d love to.” Altair smiled and pulled him down the hallway.</p><p>“What do you plan to do here in Cygnet anyway? I mean other than me,” he grinned at Desmond as they walked.</p><p>“Well I figure that'll take up most of my time," he smirked at Altair who blushed horribly. "But I dunno,” Desmond shrugged. “Odd job or two. Maybe get a work pass to go back and forth to the Eaglet.”</p><p>“Orrrr.”</p><p>“Or?” Desmond rose an eyebrow at him.</p><p>“You could work with me in my cantina? You’re pretty good with your hands,” and Desmond’s cheeks warmed. “And I could use another set of hands sometimes. Especially now that everyone got reshelled. Everyone who did is so depressed and sometimes get three or four helpings. I could use the help.”</p><p>“Really?” Desmond asked.</p><p>“Mhm!”</p><p>Desmond had never considered that. “Yeah. Sure. I’d love to be your sous,” he smiled at Altair.</p><p>“Great!” And somehow they’d arrived at Altair’s quarters already and he opened the door. “I always wanted a boyfriend who was my sous,” and dragged Desmond inside.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Or if you can’t join my patreon a nice comment is very appreciated. Especially during the pandemic. Even just a nice ‘this is great!’ Warms The cold cockles of my heart and tells me how much you appreciate me.</p>
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